No Matter What
by Lolo84
Summary: No matter how big and bad you think you are, if a child hands you a toy phone, you pick it up. No matter how damaged you think you are, when someone pure and beautiful offers you their love, you love them back. And no matter how tough, when your mom asks you for a kiss, you give it. And you make it a good one.
1. Chapter 1: Edward Masen

**Good morning sexy readers! Welcome to my new fic (kind of) ...**

**This was inspired, loosely, by a pic I saw a while ago. For those who received the Fandom4OK compilation - this might look familiar. I donated the first 2 chaps to it. **

**Big thanks to Louise Lewin and Vancouver-Canuck-Girl, they talk me off the ledge. Often. Capricorn75 and AJasper Forme make the words pretty. And you - my readers- make the sweat and tears worth it! (Smh ... That's a little more dramatic sounding than I intended it to be).**

**Anyway, I'll let you get to it.:-)**

* * *

**No Matter What **

**Chapter**

***X*—Edward Masen—*X***

* * *

As he slumped down on the bench, Edward let out a drawn-out and exaggerated groan.

It had been a long twelve hour day, yet if he was being honest with himself, he wasn't incredibly tired. However, he _was_ hot, hungry, and dying to get home to start his weekend.

Fridays meant grilling and games at his brother's house. A standing weekly tradition that at the moment was being delayed, thanks to a minor accident he was involved in just days before leaving him bus-bound.

The driver of the car that hit him was an elderly woman who had no insurance, so any talk of Edward getting a rental was non-existent.

However, due to similar incidents in his past, Edward had always been what people called an easygoing guy. Despite what his outer appearance gave off, the minute he opened his mouth, it was clear he was kind and even-tempered when it came to just about everything.

So his gratitude that everyone was able to literally walk away from the accident with no scratches had him more than content to work out an arrangement. The older lady and her husband would split the cost of the repairs with Edward 50/50.

But the car was at his brother's shop. That meant it wasn't a priority to the workers, and he kept getting pushed back for more important clients. Edward had a feeling he was going to have to be the one to fix it.

After a few minutes of sitting in solitude lest for the sounds of cars whizzing by, the soft voice of a little girl caught his attention. With a hint of nosiness, he tilted his head to the side to watch as she interacted with the woman sitting next to her.

Though their vast difference in outer appearance—the little girl's caramel colored skin, next to that of the lady's fair complexion —didn't make it obvious of their relationship, from their profiles alone he could see some similarities.

While he was quick to deduce they must be in some way related, he knew from personal experience that kids can resemble whoever you want them to. So he didn't assume it was her kid, until the little girl spoke up.

"But, Mama, the phone is for _yooouuu_," she whined, her voice holding that of pleading, mixed with desperation and boredom.

"Oh, honey. Mommy's too tired to play telephone right now. Maybe when we get home."

"But ..."

"Briella, I said no."

"Oh, okay." She pouted, her little shoulders slumping in defeat.

Her reaction made Edward frown slightly, but fight off a smile all at once. She reminded him of his niece, Maggie—a bubbly five-year-old, who could go from hyper one minute, to utterly heartbroken the next if she couldn't find someone to play with.

When she got in her defeated moods he was always there to cheer her up by giving her the one thing she was after: attention.

When that realization dawned on him, he picked up his phone and flipped through the ring tones. Making it chime with a song from one of the Disney movies Maggie always watched, he hoped it might cheer the little girl up.

From barely a foot away, Briella didn't do a good job of hiding her intrigue and looked over at Edward with a small smile.

She was immediately curious about him—mesmerized by the pretty drawings on one of his arms—but got worried when she saw he wasn't answering his phone. A memory of her mom getting yelled at by her grandma for 'being rude' by not answering the phone assaulted her and sent her into worrying this guy might face the same fate. Frantically, she pointed and said, "Phone for you," while leaning into her mother's side.

"Oh!" Edward's eyes widened with mock surprise. "You're right." Keeping his voice bright, he answered, "Hello?" Briella smiled, pleased with herself she was able to help, but his responding gasp had her nervous. Especially when he looked around, confused but excited all at once. "No, sir, I'm afraid you have the wrong number … No, sir, my name is Edward and this is not Princess Briella's phone."

At that she gasped, quickly looking at her mother then back at the guy. "Who is it?"

With an exaggerated show of covering the phone with his hands, he stage whispered, "There's a prince on the phone who is looking for a princess named Briella. I told him he has the wrong number. Unless … do _you_ know who he's looking for?"

Briella's eyes widened, her hands flying to her chest. "That's me! That's me! I'm Briella and my granddaddy calls me his princess all times. It's for me!"

"Well, then ..." Edward offered her a gentle, playful smile, glancing over at her mother for approval to hand her his sleek phone.

Before she could answer him—which would have been a nervous request to not trust her three-year-old hellion with anything of value—they heard the screeching sound of bus tires in the distance.

Grabbing her purse, and the small pink backpack next to it, she let out a relieved sigh and stood. "That's us."

Edward stood as well, almost startling her with his height alone, until he offered a soft, "Me, too." Pointing at the bus.

The sweet tenor of his voice continued to render her speechless—the same way it did while he was talking to Briella. Now that he was standing, she took a few seconds to fully take him in and appreciate the visible ink on his arm. She noticed some heavy scarring around his neck as well, but it didn't take away from how handsome she thought he was.

They waited in silence and when the bus finally stopped, Edward waved for them to go forward.

Once inside the bus, Edward made his way straight to the back. Since he was the last stop of the bus route, it was always his preferred seat. This way he didn't have to worry about being in anyone's way.

The little girl and her mom sat at the front, and he wondered, for a moment, if they did that to get out easier. Maybe they lived closer to the bus station than he.

Then he snorted, shrugging off his nosiness. A seat was just a seat, he told himself, shaking his head. Not everyone had to have a reason for everything they did.

With his eyes closed, he settled into his seat, opening them mere seconds later when he felt as though he was being watched.

Briella, who'd been seeking out her new friend, pouted when she realized he was going to sleep. She had hoped he'd play pretend with her some more. But when his eyes opened, she perked up and sent him an eager wave. Pleased when he returned it just as vigorously, she giggled and turned back around to rest against her mother. Briella didn't realize she had also taken a moment to seek out her daughter's new friend.

When he noticed his extra audience, Edward's smile turned into a smirk, his head tilting in question when the lady's brown eyes lingered longer than most would deem appropriate.

In the end, he was the first to break their gaze, finally quirking up one eyebrow when she didn't bother looking away, and didn't show embarrassment at being caught. In a second of insecurity, he wondered if she realized she was staring at him, and tried to peek over his shoulder. When he came face to face with the wall of the back of the bus, he felt immensely stupid and quickly turned back to face her.

His shoulders slumped slightly when he saw she was no longer facing him. But the look she gave him was enough that he decided if they run into each other at the bus again, he was going to introduce himself.

***X*****—**—*X*

"Dude! It's about fucking time, man."

Balancing the new hula-hoop he bought for his niece Maggie, and the shoes he got for his mom in one hand, Edward easily flipped his older brother the finger. Though you wouldn't be able to tell he was older by the way he acted at times. At twenty-nine, he was two years older than Edward.

"Woulda got here faster if I had my fucking car, don't you think?" At his brother's silence, Edward smirked. "Fucking thought so."

"Language, boys! Language."

"Sorry, Ma," they both mumbled, bowing their heads as if their mother, Esme, was about to get up and smack them upside the head. "And he's right, Jasper," she scolded the older brother. "You better not be ignoring your brother's car just because you know you can get away with it."

"Yeah, Jasper."

"And you ..." now she turned in her chair as best she could to point at Edward.

"What'd I do?"

Her lips quirked up in a smile and she pointed to her cheek in demand for a kiss. "And make it a good one."

Ever the mama's boy, Edward's grin was wide as he made his way to her, placing a long and loud kiss on her cheek. "So …" He pretended to sit himself down on her lap, but made sure to hold up as much of his weight as possible as he frowned down at her wheelchair. "What's with this thing? Where's your crutches?"

"Oh, don't you worry about me." She waved a hand in the air even though she knew it would fall on deaf ears. "I'm just tired. Now, what did you get me?"

Esme didn't have to guess who the items in Edward's hands belonged to. She knew—just like every week—one thing was for her and the other for her precious grandbaby, Maggie.

Edward was always a good boy—in her eyes. Of course she loved her children equally, but there was always something kinder, gentler about him when they were all growing up. Not just because of the things he'd gone through, either. He was born that way.

That something about him—which she couldn't name—had been amplified in the past five years, since the accident happened.

The one that rocked her family to the core.

The one which claimed her daughter and left a baby girl motherless.

The one that left her in a constant state of pain and sometimes unable to stand because of the bones that were shattered on the right side of her body.

The one that left Edward with scars taking over his entire left side which he tried to cover up with tattoos on areas that weren't too sensitive.

The one that, every Friday, had Edward bringing her a gift—because it was the same accident Edward still blamed himself for.

With a beaming smile, he handed her the pair of shoes he found for her online. But realizing something, he clamped his hands around the box. "They're ugly," he said bluntly. "But I saw, and heard, they're really comfortable. So, they're for you to wear on the days you … you know ... walk around."

"Thanks, baby boy."

"You're welcome. But no, really, what's with the chair?"

"Like I said, I'm tired. No need to fuss."

Edward's eyes narrowed, knowing his mom was full of shit. "You'd tell me—"

"Nothing to tell. And don't go making that face at me, either." She tried to snap at him when he pursed his lips, but really, her voice never held enough weight for that. "You look like a duck."

"Quack, quack, quack."

Edward's entire demeanor changed, his face splitting into a smile at hearing Maggie's voice. But when he saw her, he jumped back. "Who are you?"

Maggie's mouth gaped, her hands going to her chest. "It's me, Uncle Edward. Maggie!"

"But it can't be."

"But it is."

"But it can't be."

Maggie giggled, barely getting out another protest.

"You see ..." Edward started in mock solemnity. "I brought this hula-hoop over for a little girl. A baby almost. Not this big girl I see in front of me." He waved a hand at her. "And I demand you find me my Maggie Mae."

Having stopped listening at the words 'I brought this', she skipped over to him and pointed at the large, round, plastic toy. "That's for me?"

"No, I told you it's for Maggie Mae."

"Uncle Edward," she groaned and shook her head, seemingly bored and done with his pretending not to know who she is.

"Okay, okay. But first ..." He knelt down in front of her, jutting his cheek in her direction. "And make it a good one."

With a squeal, she threw her little arms around his neck and puffed out her cheek to blow fart noises against his face.

"Eww!"

"What? It's a good one!"

"Oh, yeah?" He stood to his full height and threw her in the air. "How about that?"

Watching on, Esme couldn't help but feel a little crack at her heart. There was not a day that went by where she didn't think about her Rosie. And she knew Edward's over-exuberance with Maggie was his way of trying to make up for what happened.

"Grandpa, get him," Maggie pleaded as an older gentleman walked into the room.

His presence made Edward's laughs die down to soft chuckles and set Maggie down.

"Edward."

"Carlisle."

At the men's stiff greeting, it was Esme's lips that pursed this time. No one knew why the two never seemed to hit it off.

As Esme's long term boyfriend, Carlisle Cullen had been around since Edward was younger, but that didn't make him his real father. Everyone suspected Edward's resistance to bond with him stemmed from that fact, but no one could be sure.

Regardless, the manners he was brought up with dictated that Edward always respected him. So he turned to his elder and as politely as possible, asked, "Can I talk to you real quick?"

Esme groaned. The only time the men seemed to really bond was when Edward was probing him about how his mom was doing.

"Carlisle, don't fall for it. I already told him I'm fine."

"Which means you won't mind me talking to him then."

"Grandma, stop making duck face."

They all cracked up at Maggie, but Edward raised an eyebrow at his mother, wondering if she was hiding something.

He sure hoped not because he knew the family wouldn't be able to handle any more bad news.

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******Sooo ... what do you think?**

**********Posting wise it's looking like every 1-1.5 weeks with the focus on getting them up over the weekends. Since I already have the first few chaps written, and I don't think this will be a long fic, we won't be getting off schedule anytime soon. I WILL be working on my other WIP's it's just a matter of getting those characters interested in me again. Right now those bastards are mute.**

**********Missy aka Cullens-Twi-Mistress made me a wonderful banner. On it, shows Edward, Bella, and Briella (pronounced like Bree-ella). It's posted in my group and also should be on my blog! Check it out :-)**

**Thanks for reading**

**Until Next Time**

**~Lo **


	2. Chapter 2: Bella Swan

**This is part 2 of what was part of the compilation and was beta'd by A Jasper For Me! *heart***

**Big thanks to Louise Lewin, Vancouver-Canuck-Girl, and Capricorn75 who must really love me because I test their patience - daily! And, well they let me lol**

******Thank you so, so much for the love so far! It's not enough - my simply saying thank you - but I can't give you all sloppy kisses like I wanna. So ... yeah :-)**

* * *

**No Matter What**

**Chapter Two**

***X*—Bella Swan—*X***

* * *

"For the last time ... No!"

"But, Mama!"

"Briella. For the love of God!"

"What 'bout him?"

With a sigh, Bella dropped her head to the table and sent a silent prayer for God to grant her some strength.

"Really, sweetie." The warming voice of Briella's grandmother, Senna, spoke up. "She can stay if she wants to."

"No." In attempt to shake it, Bella wiggled her head against the wood, protesting, "I thought Laurent was going to be home this weekend. I forgot his schedule's crazy right now. It's okay."

"Are you sure? You look dead on your feet."

That's because she was. It had been an intense past few months for Bella. First she'd lost her job, then she had to move to be closer to her daughter's family. Now she was fielding calls from her own mother, who conveniently wanted nothing to do with them until Bella announced she was moving.

Since before Briella was born, Bella depended heavily on the support of Laurent and his family. They were both young, barely seventeen, when she got pregnant. And though his parents were devastated and disappointed, they opened up their home to Bella when her parents put her out.

Or rather, when Bella left. Her father's ludicrous ultimatum of "Choose us or this boy", had her packing within hours. It wasn't about choosing her boyfriend over her family. It was about choosing her child. A child, Bella's father made clear, he would never support.

A year ago, following their retirement and moving to a quieter town, the Revins had offered Bella to move with them. Briella was close to her Granddaddy and Nana something fierce and cried for days when she realized she wouldn't be living with them anymore. It was the same for them. They felt as though they were not only leaving Briella behind, but Bella—someone they'd grown to look at as their daughter. But with the end of her and Laurent's relationship, the desire to 'make it on her own' with her daughter, and give her parents one last chance to be involved, Bella had stayed behind.

It was a decision she regretted instantly.

Within months, just about everything had fallen apart. She'd lost her job because of babysitting issues. And one night after trying to ask her parents for help and her father only agreeing to let Bella stay if Briella didn't, she knew she was on her own. It wasn't until she'd lost her apartment and ended up having to sleep in her car one night, that she called up her pseudo parents to tell them what had been going on. Without questions asked, they told Bella to 'bring her butt on home' to them.

With their help, support, and guidance, she had just finished the last of her nursing courses. Bella found a new job, and recently got her and Briella into a quaint but nice two bedroom apartment. It was a proud moment for Bella, having her own place again, but it's still an adjustment for Briella. She couldn't understand why everyone didn't just live together like they did before.

And now she couldn't understand why she was being forced to leave. She knew enough that she'd been staying there, at her grandparents' house and with her dad, almost every weekend since the move. What was so different now?

"Your daddy's at work, baby." Bella tried to explain—again. "So you'll see him next weekend."

"B-but what 'bouts Nana?" Briella frowned and looked at her grandmother, unleashing the power of her puppy dog eyes. "Won't you miss me?"

The older lady smiled at her granddaughter's tactics and quickly brought her hands up to cover up her giggle. "I miss you every day."

Bella sent her a mock glare. "Don't you go encouraging her."

"And don't you go being so stubborn."

Both women sighed. Senna understood what Bella was doing, or trying to do. She'd been a young mother herself, having had Laurent's older sister almost twenty years before she had him. She remembered the stage she saw Bella going through now, as if she were back in the midst of going through it herself. The stage where asking for, or accepting, too much help felt like you were doing a lousy job as a mother.

Though that was part of it, things were different in Bella's mind. It was one thing when Bella and their son were still together, but now that they were 'just friends' co-existing for the sake of their daughter alone, Bella was hesitant to ask anything of them. She didn't want to get in the way should anyone else come around.

Nonsense, was what Senna thought of this. Sure, she felt a little heartbroken when she was told of the break up, fearing what kind of relationship she might be allowed to have with her granddaughter. But she was utterly surprised when Bella kept on business as usual … well, until now.

"I appreciate what you're doing." Senna gave her a soft, encouraging smile. "But never turn down the chance at a good night's sleep. And I'm sure you have some things you'd like to do this weekend. Child-free?"

"Like what?" Bella raised a bored eyebrow. "Grocery shop?" For a second, her eyes glazed over and she giggled at the thought. Oh, what that would be like to go at it alone and not with a child who suddenly needed everything.

"That, or go out with some friends, perhaps?"

As best as she could, Bella tried to hide her frown. She didn't have any friends, not really. There was one especially nosy nurse at her job that tried to invite her out to a club last weekend, but Bella wasn't sure if that was still her scene. The last time she went to a club, it was for her twentieth birthday, almost eight months ago. It was a goodwill gesture from Laurent, to take her out, but since they were already broken up, it was just awkward. She ended up sneaking away to call a cab while he tried his best to ignore the women that were hitting on him all night.

Bella smiled, thinking about her tall, dark, and handsome friend. They'd been through a lot together, grew up quickly. And words couldn't express how lucky she felt that she didn't have one of the 'baby daddies' who just ran off or claimed the kid wasn't theirs. Laurent had always been there and was always intent on doing the best he could for them. Hence his new job.

The hours killed him, all of them, and so did the realization he would be away more often than he would be home. But in the end, he couldn't pass up the money, couldn't pass up the ability to give his daughter whatever she might want or need.

It was because of this, though, that Bella was intent on taking Briella home. She'd known about his schedule change, but it had completely slipped her mind that it started this weekend. She didn't want it to look like she was just using it as an excuse to dump Briella on her grandparents.

Having grown tired of listening to the good-hearted, but repetitive back and forth of his three favorite women, Nahuel Revin, better known to everyone as "Grandaddy", whether he was kin to them or not, pushed open the sliding glass door and walked into the living area.

"Granddaddy!" Briella squealed, tearing off at full speed toward him.

"Hi, princess." He let out a hearty chuckle, unwrapping her from his legs to pick her up and rest her on his hip. "How was school?"

"Good."

"What did you do?"

"Uh … played."

"Yeah?" He smiled. "Is that it?" At her nod, he laughed again. "Sounds legit."

"Uh huh." She beamed. "Oh, and I made a friend today. Where was you?"

"_Were. _Where _were_ you."

"Where ... were ... you," she repeated slowly, looking at him for confirmation she said it right.

From the kitchen, Senna rolled her eyes. Once a school teacher, always a school teacher.

"I was outside getting the pool ready for my favorite girl."

"Yay!"

"Actually," Bella spoke up. "We're not staying."

With a conspiring look to his wife, then Briella, Nahuel sent Bella a soft smile, and muttered to himself, 'that's what you think'.

"Now." His attention went back to Briella. "Tell me about your new friend."

Briella beamed, at the ready to divulge all the details she could remember about her friend with the pretty arms and small phone.

It didn't take much to convince Bella to stay a little while longer when Granddaddy offered to make them dinner—she always enjoyed his cooking, and he knew it. She also couldn't pass up the opportunity to tire Briella out with a few laps in the pool.

But the joke was on her because after her second helping, she pretty much fell out on the couch.

"Mama, is it nap time?"

Bella stirred at the sound of Briella's voice and reached her arm out to her. "Yeah, baby."

With a yawn, she climbed up next to her mom without complaint. The effects of time in the pool, plus two full hot dogs and some chips catching up to her.

Sitting on the adjacent loveseat, Senna smiled softly at the two. Words couldn't describe how special they were to her and her husband. But in that moment, all she could do was scowl at the thought of Bella's parents. Especially her mother.

A teenage daughter turning up pregnant would be a shock to the system for anyone, so she understood Renee Swan's need for 'tough love' at first. However, she couldn't support the 'no love' it turned into over the years. As a mother, even with hurt, anger, and disappointment in a situation, it was hard for her to understand how she could completely turn her back on Bella. Not just Bella, but the precious little girl curled up on the sofa as well. One hand occupied with sucking her thumb and the other playing with the ends of her mother's thick brown hair. She was a little angel and Senna couldn't imagine missing out on moments like this one.

As she thought about it deeper, her immense anger and resentment toward the Swans amplified. They'd always been friends, mostly because their children grew up alongside each other and were always in the same classes. With that, their last names being so close had them partnered up a lot. They were both great kids, straight A students, popular and active in sports and school clubs.

When the two started dating as teens, it wasn't a shock to anyone.

What was a shock was Charlie Swan's reaction to the duo. They knew narrow-mindedness, bigotry, and some prejudice still resided in the world, but they never expected it from someone they considered a dear friend.

Senna and Nahuel heavily suspected things would have been different had Bella fallen pregnant by someone else, someone who wasn't black, and this broke her heart just as much as it angered her. Over the past five years, counting the time they dated, up until this moment, Senna and Nahuel had watched Bella go through a range of emotions in reaction to the way her parents treated her.

Since she wasn't their daughter, they couldn't protect her from them. But they vowed to do their part, always, to help her shield Briella from as much of it as possible.

***X*—*X* **

When Bella woke up some time later, she was momentarily confused until she remembered falling asleep on Senna and Grandad's couch. Through a yawn, she still managed to smile at the pillow under her head and blanket thrown over her legs.

There wasn't a time she could remember the Revins not being there for her. Growing up, it was always the two families going out and taking trips together. She'd always looked at them as second parents and was just as devastated to tell them she'd gotten pregnant as she was in telling her own parents. In fact, she'd been a little more afraid of their reaction, fearing they wouldn't accept her. Or that they would blame her for 'ruining their son's life'.

It had never come to that.

They didn't have it in them not to lend a helping hand to anyone who needed it. It was a trait that often found them taken advantage of by friends and family. Bella didn't like that she appeared stubborn. She didn't even feel like she had anything to prove by turning down their help from time to time. Really, she just felt they deserved their rest as much as she did, if not more. They'd raised their kids, and helped raise grandkids already. She wanted them to enjoy their retirement and not burn out.

Her phone buzzed on the table and Bella rubbed at her eyes in an attempt to wake up further. The time showed it was after nine o'clock, and the buzzing was due to notifications of missed calls and texts she'd gotten while asleep.

The first few were from Laurent, varying texts asking her to call him so he could tell Briella goodnight. Then one saying never mind, that he just spoke to her from his mom's phone. She smiled, glad he didn't forget even when he was on the road. Briella would have had his ass, otherwise.

The smile faded when she saw another missed called was from her mother. Nothing irked her more than Renee's sudden need to be involved. She'd always thought of them as close, and though she'd understood the hurt she must have caused by getting pregnant at seventeen, she never expected her to side with Charlie the way she did.

Finding it hard to forgive her for stirring up all the bad memories and fights again, Bella sighed and set her phone back down on the table.

She'd gotten to a good point with it all, a point where she resigned herself to the fact her parents wanted nothing to do with her. At least that's what she'd thought, but now she wasn't sure.

Laying her head down on the pillow, her sigh turned a tad bit dreamy thinking of the one highlight to her very long day.

The stranger on the bus. The one who made her daughter smile. The one with the tender smile, red hair, and haunted green eyes.

The one, she decided, that if she saw him again, she was going to introduce herself to.

* * *

**Well, there you have it. Some insight to Bella. **

**For the most part, the story will continue in the same fashion of alternating POV's but will always be a continuation of what's already happened. Not a retelling. Some prefer one POV over the other, but umm ... I wouldn't recommend skipping chaps and whatnot. Ya might miss something ;-)**

**Soooooo ... what did you think? How about that Charlie, huh? *sigh* All too common I'm afraid.**

**Anyway, thanks for reading.**

**Until Next Time**

**~Lo**


	3. Chapter 3: Edward Masen

**Reading some of your reviews, and how some are relating to this story, has made my day in a way I can't explain. Thank you so much for sharing that with me. :-)**

**And thank you to AJasper ForMe, Louise Lewin, Vancouver Canuck Girl, and Capricorn75!**

* * *

**No Matter What**

**Chapter Three**

***X*—Edward Masen—*X***

* * *

"Masen, I need you to give me at least two more hours today!"

Over the music streaming through his headphones, Edward heard his manager yelling out to him and raised a hand of acknowledgment in the air.

Most of the warehouse guys hated Ephraim. They hated when he demanded they give him overtime. They hated the way he spoke, the way he walked. They especially hated the way his pot belly brushed up against them when he came in too close to talk to them.

But somehow, he and Edward had a different kind of relationship.

Over the four years Edward worked in the warehouse he never talked back, always arrived early for his shifts, and when overtime was needed he gave it willingly.

To Ephraim and some of corporate, Edward was a model employee. They admired his candor, his loyalty, and what they considered a 'go getter' attitude. In return, he earned their respect. But they didn't realize his attitude had nothing to do with his personality and everything to do with the fact he had nothing else going on.

With his singular life he had no reason to balk at the extra hours, avoid coming in on weekends, or to request holidays off.

Lately, the realization gave Edward an unfamiliar feeling akin to loneliness.

The guys often teased him about how lucky he should feel at not having anyone to answer to, and being able to do whatever he wanted. Edward sure didn't _feel _lucky not to have those things, though.

It burned at him slowly over the years—the realization that there were things he'd never have. But for the past few days, it had been amplified.

Maggie had asked a lot of questions recently. Those of the 'why aren't you married' and 'how come you don't have kids' persuasion. When she asked, he appeased her—he knew how do that well. But inside he wished he could give her an answer. He didn't feel desperate for marriage and children, no more than the average man who just _wanted _those things for his future, but knowing some things may never happen made the innocent intent of the questions sting.

"You working overtime, too?"

Edward pulled out one of his earbuds and nodded at his co-worker, James. Even as Ephraim's nephew, James didn't like his uncle any more than the other guys did. But he never complained about the hours and this was one of the many reasons Edward got along with him.

"How about this weekend? You coming in?"

Edward shrugged. "We'll see." He wasn't scheduled and hadn't been asked, but he'd be up to it if Ephraim mentioned it to him.

"Well, if you do and need a ride, call me. I know the bus schedule sucks over the weekend."

Ah, the bus. For the first time all day—since he came in seven hours ago at five in the morning—Edward smiled. Not just a grin, but a wide genuine smile.

For the past few days, he had lingered around the bus stop hoping to catch sight of two very special girls he hadn't been able to get off his mind. His lack of success hadn't deterred him. Since it was Friday afternoon when he saw them last week, he hoped to find them there again today.

It had to be the day he saw them again. If it wasn't, he had no idea what he'd do.

James' eyebrows quirked up in confusion, wondering why Edward was smiling at him in such a way.

"Nothing." Edward continued smiling, waving a hand in the air. "Just thinking."

"Oh, I figured _that _much." James chuckled.

Thinking the conversation was over, Edward went back to examining his clipboard. He wanted to make sure the day's inventory had arrived and shipped properly. Once finished with that task, he'd be able focus on doing extra things not required during his regular work shift. When he looked up and saw James still standing there, he blinked. "Yes?"

"Umm … how's your brother?"

"He's fine." Edward nodded and kept his face stoic. On the inside, though, he was fighting off smiles. Several weeks ago, Edward went out with James and a few guys from the warehouse for drinks. Jasper came along, and he'd suspected the two hit it off but couldn't be sure.

Jasper's sexuality wasn't a secret, but it wasn't something he openly discussed with people, either. Not even his brother. He'd had girlfriends _and _boyfriends in the past, but he's kept them equally at arm's length. As far as his family was concerned, Jasper knew they didn't care. He just chose to keep that part of his life private. If he found someone he planned to marry, he would bring them around the most important people in his life. Before then, he didn't think they deserved the privilege.

"He gave me his number," James hedged, his eyes searching Edward's for a reaction.

Edward kept his game face in place and went back to looking at his clipboard. "Yeah?"

"Yeah … do you think I should—"

"You guys working, or what?"

Both men groaned as Emmett McCarty, the afternoon shift supervisor, drove by on the forklift.

Edward always ignored him. He didn't have time to argue with someone who only got a promotion because he had originally turned it down.

James on the other hand … "Fuck off." Well, he always talked back.

"Excuse me?" Emmett stopped the lift and started climbing down. James didn't seem fazed.

"You heard me."

"Enough," was all Edward said. "Here." He handed Emmett his clipboard and explained which pallets came in and which had yet to arrive. "And you." He pointed to the other side of the building for James to get working on something else. "I'm here for an extra two hours. In that time, I need peace." Edward might not have had the title, but he had the clout to demand this of them. Neither man dared to argue. After a long minute of a silent stare-down they walked away.

"You're a supervisor, you know," Ephraim said to Edward as he punched out later that day.

Edward shrugged. "No, that would be Emmett."

Ephraim let out an uncharacteristic snort but said nothing else. This conversation had been repeated several times over the past few months, and it always ended up with the same result. Everyone thought Edward deserved the promotion. Except Edward. He never gave a reason why he declined the position. He wasn't even sure of the reason himself. But it simply hadn't felt _right _to him and that was the only answer he'd been willing to give.

***X*—*X* **

With each step of Edward's short five minute walk to the bus stop, his heart rate and anticipation grew.

A lot was riding on the outcome of his interactions with the girls if they were there—including, but not limited to, the livelihood of his car.

While Jasper didn't tell him much, Edward told his brother everything. So last week at game night, one of the first things he mentioned was his brief encounter with Briella and her mom. Through teasing, Jasper made it clear Edward would get his keys once he got the 'hot mom's' number.

When he got to the empty bench, he sighed. But he didn't lose hope. His phone pinged and he laughed when the message opened to a picture of Jasper holding his keys in the air with one hand, and simulating a very interesting gesture toward the car with the other.

Deep in a texting conversation with his brother, it took a giggle at his side to bring his mind back in focus. When Edward snapped his head up, he beamed at who was smiling back him. Suddenly, the week didn't feel as tedious now that he was staring back at the two girls he'd been hoping to see.

"Hiya!" The little girl waved with her whole arm.

"Hi, Princess Briella." Edward smiled, hoping her eagerness resulted from her remembering him and not just her propensity to be friendly.

When she plucked her toy phone out of her little backpack and waved it in the air, he knew she remembered, and he waved his as well. The sun gleaming off it elicited a happy squeal from her, and Edward decided it was one of the best sounds he'd ever heard.

"I'd be careful with that." His gaze snapped up, half worried her mom was warning him away from them. Her voice was smooth and calming, smoother and lower than most women but still quite feminine. In its own way, he thought, it definitely suited her. "It's a nice phone. I wouldn't want her to break it."

Edward grinned, thinking about how Maggie had dropped his phone and shattered the screen a few months prior. "It has insurance. But thanks."

The chiming of the fake phone cut off any more conversation between the two adults, and the next words out of Briella's mouth sent Edward's stomach plummeting. "Hi, Daddy!" She sang into the phone.

_Of course._ Edward shook his head. He hadn't even thought about any male counterparts. But he should have. Where there was a kid was normally a dad, and sometimes a boyfriend or husband. As subtly as he could, he glanced toward 'hot moms' ring finger, and noted it was bare. Although these days that didn't necessarily mean anything.

He'd learned a lot of married and engaged people never wore their rings.

He shook that thought off, focusing his attention back on the little girl's big eyes watching him. She'd already forgotten about her fake conversation, and was just staring at Edward. Had she not been a child, most people would have found the nature of her stare creepy or annoying. But Briella merely looked curious.

"What's matta with your arm?"

"Briella." Bella's voice rang out scolding with a hint of mortification. Children didn't always know when to keep their concerns to themselves and Briella was about to learn that important lesson. "You apologize right now."

The poor girl was confused. She could tell she was in some sort of trouble, but for the life of her she couldn't figure out what she'd done.

"It's okay." They were sitting on the opposite side of him from where they'd been last week, and with a shorter sleeved shirt some of his scars were more visible. So Edward jumped in to defend her though he knew he shouldn't have. He'd learned a time or two not to interfere when Maggie got reprimanded. But even adults had questions when they saw him. How could he fault a child? "I got into an accident."

"An assindent?" Briella looked genuinely worried. "Did you falled or something?"

"Something like that."

"Did it hurts?"

"Yes …" He nodded, smiling softly. "It hurt, but it doesn't anymore."

"Oh."

She lifted her hand as if to touch his arm, but Bella intervened. This beautiful and sweet man was being far too kind and patient with her daughter. She didn't need to push his buttons by literally letting her poke him.

"I'm sorry." Bella shook her head and pulled Briella's hand back. Edward waved her off with his other hand, sparking another round of questions from Briella about his 'drawings'.

"My mama has a pretty picture, too!" She stood up, pulling at her mom's shirt. "Of my foot. Show him, Mama!" Bella let the little girl pull her up to a standing position, and Edward smiled wide as he took her in.

Last time, he remembered, she was in a uniform of sorts—the type people who work in hospital and doctors' offices wore. Now she was wearing jeans and a tight fitting t-shirt that hugged curves he didn't realize she'd had the first time around.

"Maybe some other time." Bella laughed, bending down to pick Briella up and tickle her. "I can't really take my shirt off here can I, silly girl?"

"You're the silly!" Briella giggled.

_Longing._

As he watched the two of them, Edward realized the feeling he couldn't identify earlier in regards to his current life wasn't loneliness, it was longing.

Longing for things he'd lost, and longing for things he could never have.

The familiar sound of bus tires screeching had the girls straightening up, and Edward felt himself losing his nerve. That wasn't how he'd pictured things going the next time he saw them.

But he'd stood in his own way more times than he was willing to admit. It appeared as though today would be no different.

Asking someone for their telephone number led to conversations.

Conversations led to dates.

Dates led to 'alone time'.

And 'alone time' led to people actually _seeing _him—seeing all of him.

There was no way to predict how Bella would react.

Right now, he was certain he didn't want to find out after all.

So instead of taking the plunge and asking for her number like he had planned—once the bus came, he waved them forward and went straight to the seat in the back.

* * *

******Soooo ... what did you think?**

**Yes, I know. Edward's a little shy and scared. But girls can ask for numbers, too. Right? :-)**

**Until Next Time**

**~Lo**


	4. Chapter 4: Bella Swan

**No Matter What**

**Chapter Four**

** *X*—Bella Swan—*X***

* * *

"I don't like it."

"Is that so?" Bella crossed her arms over her chest and raised a questioning eyebrow at Laurent. "I don't remember asking what you thought of it, actually."

"You don't even know the guy."

"Which is why I got his number—so I can _get _to know him."

"And that's another thing! What kind of a guy can't man up long enough to ask a girl for her number?"

"The kind whose head can still fit through a door. Not everyone can be as cocky as you."

"Well …" Laurent brushed an imaginary bit of dirt off his shoulder. "That's understandable. But if you ask me, that was a bitch-ass move on his part."

Even though Bella knew she was off in the backyard playing with Grandad, she looked around to see if Briella was within hearing range. The last thing they needed was for her to start repeating any of Laurent's choice words at daycare, or worse—when she hung around her grandmother's church friends. "You need to start watching your mouth. And as far as Edward goes, you don't even know him."

"Neither do you."

"Laurent." Bella sighed, ready to end this unnecessary conversation. There were a few ways she thought about shutting it down, and each of them started and ended with her reminding him that her love life, or lack thereof, was none of his damn business.

But something made her stop.

And that something was the look in his eyes.

_Fear._

In all the years Bella had known Laurent, she'd only seen that look on his face twice before. The first time was when she went into labor early because Briella decided she didn't want to wait another month. The other was when Briella, then four months old, had gotten so sick she had to spend the night in the hospital.

Laurent was a lot of things, Bella realized. Some good and some bad, but first and foremost he was a father.

"If you're worried about Briella, don't be. It's not like I plan on sending her off with him or leaving them alone, or anything like that."

"Damn right you won't."

But Briella—his little Bree—wasn't the only girl Laurent worried about.

Since the third grade, Bella Swan had been a constant fixture in his life. That was the year they shared a table in Mrs. Stanford's class, and she gave him a Valentine's Day card despite him calling her 'Bella Bella so Smella' all year.

To be fair, she purposely addressed the card _To: Laura. _Yet the gesture somehow ended the mini-feud.

Their bond had evolved on many different levels throughout the years; from friends to lovers, and back again. And though some thought it odd for him to view her in the light he did now—given everything they'd been through together—Bella was, in a way, the second sister he never had.

Therefore, his protectiveness of her knew no bounds. He didn't care if anyone were to ever misconstrue that into something else. He knew her—sometimes better than she knew herself—and he didn't want some punkass coming around and taking advantage of her in the vulnerable state of mind she was in.

Bella never said out loud how she felt, but she didn't have to. Laurent and his family were all she had left. She'd always had a lot of friends and family surrounding her while they were growing up. Without that extra support system now, she was in a perpetual state of feeling lost.

He saw it in the way she walked, how she talked, and the way she tried to act indifferent when he mentioned he'd started dating a women by the name of Irina a few days ago. He knew she was jealous. Not because she wanted him, but because she wanted what she thought he had. But he didn't have anything, yet. Things with Irina were new, too new to be taken seriously. And at his request they'd agreed to take things slow.

But that's not how Bella worked. He saw firsthand that when she fell for someone, it came on fast and furious. She gave them everything, whether they deserved it or not. Things were different now. If she got hurt, it would hurt Bree in the process, and he'd raise hell if that happened.

Irina hadn't even met her, and she wasn't going to until she held a more permanent place in his plans. Yet this guy, whom Bella admitted to only exchanging first names and telephone numbers with a few hours before, had been around and interacted with his daughter twice.

"Just be careful, okay?" Laurent spoke with nonchalance. It betrayed everything he had just said a minute ago, but he would say almost anything to rid Bella of the look of annoyance and disappointment she sent his way. "I don't like it and I won't pretend otherwise. Just … don't … I don't know, go falling in love with the guy or anything."

"Whoa! Who's falling in love?"

"What's going on?" Senna asked, walking into the room with a smile.

"Your son—" Bella pointed "—has already married me off to a man whose number I _just_ got."

"The man on the bus?"

"Wha—?" Bella's jaw dropped, wondering how she knew, but then it dawned on her that Senna must have found out the same way Laurent did.

Briella blabbed it.

Although she thought about him on and off all week, Bella never thought she'd actually see Edward again. After all, what were the odds? So when she saw him sitting down on the bus bench again, immersed in his phone, she knew she had to take the chance she had been given.

Like before, he was kind and gentle with Briella. He appeased her when most would have brushed her off. Deep in her heart, she knew exactly how Laurent felt —she knew she should have been worried at his quick and easy rapport with her daughter, but instead Bella found it endearing.

Scratch that—she found _him_ endearing.

When he didn't ask for her number, she decided she would take a chance, not talk herself into thinking she'd only imagined the spark of interest in his eyes, and would find a way to ask him for his.

Briella couldn't decipher the difference between the way she played telephone and the way her mom and her new friend had. So when she ran through the doors of her grandparents' house and told her dad all about her day, she had no idea the can of worms she just opened.

It took some time and a lot of deflection, but Bella finally ended the interrogations and made her way home. They'd asked her to stay for dinner, and Laurent had offered—as he usually did—to give her a ride home, but Bella declined both. She wanted Laurent and Briella to get a head-start on their weekend together and she needed some time to think.

She talked a big game in front of Laurent, but the fact remained: she still had no idea if she would actually call the man who intrigued her so much.

If Edward had wanted to stay in touch with her he would have asked her for her number first, wouldn't he?

But he hadn't, and now she wanted to know why.

Maybe she _had _imagined that spark of interest.

Maybe he only gave her his number out of pity.

Once upon a time, Bella would have never been so insecure. Most days she wasn't. But getting accustomed to her post-baby body, even four years later, hadn't been easy. She had gained almost 60 pounds during her pregnancy, and had only managed to lose about 40 of those pounds. In her mind, the extra weight mixed with her short height pushed her closer to the edge of chubby, even though no one around her had ever made her feel that way.

Especially not Laurent who, admittedly, liked his girls to be thicker than the average.

But did Edward feel that way, too?

***X*—*X***

"She's such a whore."

Bella's ears perked up at the same time her stomach clenched and spine straightened.

Along with a handful of other nurses, she was in the break room quickly shoveling food in her mouth and hoping not to choke. They were supposed to get at least 30 minutes lunch, but that didn't always work out. And since she was assigned to the ER today, she was lucky to be getting even that.

Her head was down, but when she heard the comment coming from her co-worker, Angela, her head snapped up and her fork stilled in the air. She knew they weren't talking about her. They knew _nothing _about her. So at best, or worse, they could call her a bitch, stuck up, or maybe even a prude because she didn't indulge in ogling the doctors and males nurses with them. But as far as they were concerned, a whore she was not.

She scanned the room but noticed nothing out of the ordinary. No heads were bent low to avoid the gaze of Angela and her friend. No one was on the verge of tears, nor did anyone look murderous.

Seconds later, a nurse by the name of Jessica Stanley walked in. When Angela and her counterpart silenced their gossiping to snickers, Bella knew who they were talking about. By the look on Jessica's face she knew they'd been talking about her as well. But if she was bothered by it, she didn't let it show.

A few days ago, Bella had thought Jessica was slightly nosy and pushy. Today, she looked at her with a sense of camaraderie and pride. She'd had to bear the brunt of gossip and nasty looks while she walked around her high school with a huge belly. She knew first hand that keeping your head up high and ignoring it all took a massive amount of strength. And without her closest friends, whom she missed dearly, she wouldn't have been able to make it through.

When she saw the opportunity to be that for someone else, Bella waved to Jessica, and said, "This seat's not taken."

Grateful, Jessica returned the pretty brunette's smile and slumped in the chair across from her. "What a day, huh?"

"I think this is the craziest it's been since I've started here."

"Is this your first Monday in the ER?"

"Yeah." Bella nodded, and chose not to add what else she thought—that she hoped it would be the last. She didn't want anyone to think she didn't want, or appreciate, her job, but at that moment she felt overwhelmed and overworked.

"I almost quit my first day working the ER." Jessica shook her head as she remembered that day. Bella was doing great; Jessica had watched her as had many others, but she could still see the anxiety in her eyes and wanted to reassure her. "You're doing a good job."

Bella knew when she was being placated, and mumbled out, "If you say so," not believing it for one minute.

A chair scraped across the floor and they both looked up as Angela walked by—glaring at Jessica along the way. _She could be so pretty_, Bella thought of Angela, _if she wasn't clearly so petty._

Completely unfazed, Jessica carried on, asking Bella if she worked over the weekend.

Bella snorted to herself as she thought about her mix up.

Their work schedules consisted of alternating weekends off, so she had requested hers to fall on the weekends she thought Briella would be with her dad. That way she'd have the whole weekend free to herself, or be able to tag along if Laurent invited her out on an outing with him and Bree. All her planning had been for naught, but she was thankful for it. If she had the weekend off, she would've had two solid days home alone with nothing but her thoughts to keep her company.

"I was off," Jessica offered, despite not having been asked. "But then again, I wasn't. My son was sick with that bug going around. I swear he's more demanding than ten adult patients on their worst days." She knew the feeling all too well; Bella chuckled and continued listening as Jessica rambled about her weekend. She had started to tune her out until the conversation turned to the guy she'd been dating who just broke up with her because he didn't want to date anyone with kids.

"I didn't think that was much of a problem these days." At Jessica's confused expression, Bella elaborated. "You said he ended things because of your son?"

"Yeah, apparently he doesn't 'hate' kids—he just has a problem with other men's kids or something … I don't know. I guess in his defense I should have told him from the beginning, but …"

Jessica's words once again got drowned out by Bella's inner thoughts. Naïve as it may be, it wasn't an issue she thought she'd ever have: not being able to date because she already had a child. And now all she could think about was that handsome green-eyed man who already smiled at her daughter like he'd give her the world if she asked for it.

There was a high possibility she'd never get that chance again, and the idea plagued Bella for the remainder of her work day and during her walk to Briella's daycare nearby.

Finally, on their way home, when little hands frantically started pulling at the sleeve of her shirt, Bella had to snap out of it.

"Mama, are we losted?"

Too tired to correct her speech, Bella sighed. "No, this is the way we go home." If she sounded exasperated to the outside observer it's because she was. Since Briella still had issues grasping what days they took the shorter route to go home, and what days they took the different route to go to her dad's, they'd had this conversation at least twice a week. "We walk more when we go see Daddy, remember?"

But Briella didn't remember, and Bella knew she'd face this question again in a few days.

Later in the evening, her mind still going a mile a minute, Bella sent a silent thank you to whoever listened when Briella didn't put up a fuss when it was time to start getting ready for bed. All she asked, after she got out of the bath and was dressed in her pajamas, was if she could finish coloring the picture she started for her dad.

"Sure." Bella shrugged, looking at the time. She had about ten minutes before they'd start bedtime and about five until ...

The phone rang and Bella smiled, knowing exactly who it was.

"It's for you, baby," she said as she handed her daughter the phone. "It's your dad."

Briella perked up, all thoughts of her picture gone as she pushed the button and answered the phone. "Hi, Daddy."

Bella went on her way, getting their lunch and snacks ready for the next day and listened on as Briella spoke to her dad. She found it funny how, by the time Laurent heard the events of her day, the story always changed. One time, Bella had to physically stop him from driving to the school when Briella's retelling made her teacher sound like an abusive tyrant. Meanwhile, she'd merely gotten a time out for not getting in line after recess.

There was a brief moment of silence before she heard her phone ringing again.

"Mama, your phone!"

Since she hadn't heard them say goodbye, she knew their call must have been disconnected and it was Laurent calling right back. "You can answer it."

"Okay!" She sounded excited.

While Bella finished with their bags, Briella seemed immersed in her conversation. When she made her way back to the living room, it was in time to hear Briella say, "Uh, coloring." Then she paused and looked down, her brows furrowed, before she looked back at her mother. "Mama, what's my favorite color?"

This week … "Pink."

"Pink," Briella echoed, then giggled. "What is yours? Red like your _hair_?" And by the way she said it you could tell she wasn't asking; as opposed to repeating something she was just told.

Red like his hair?

Red?

Red hair?

Suddenly on high alert, Bella had to stop herself from lunging for the phone. She didn't want to scare Briella. So as calmly as possible, she asked, "Sweetie, who are you talking to?"

"Umm … who is this?" She paused, waiting. "It's Mr. Edward."

And just in case there was any confusion, as Bella reached for the phone, she heard a deep voice saying, "From the bus."


	5. Chapter 5: Edward Masen

**Hi everyone and thank you so much for reading and for your reviews! You guys are absolutely amazing. :-)**

**And special thanks to AJasper For Me, Louise Lewin, Vancouver Canuck Girl, and Capricorn75. For everything. **

* * *

**No Matter What  
**

**Chapter Five**

***X*—Edward Masen—*X***

* * *

"Where is your friend, Uncle Edward?"

As he looked around the park, Edward frowned and wondered the same thing. "I don't know. I guess they're late."

"Late? That's not nice."

He hummed, but silently kept pushing Maggie on the swing. He tried to appear unfazed but the truth was his stomach felt tight, like it was gnawing at itself.

After he admitted to Jasper that he hadn't been the one to gets Bella's number—that she'd actually asked for his once they got on the bus, Edward had endured his older brother's relentless teasing.

He felt like a schmuck. There was no getting around that. It didn't help that Jasper put it in his head that now Bella would have a complex about the whole thing, either.

That worried Edward. He didn't know how to ensure Bella knew he truly was interested in her.

When she didn't immediately call him, he knew hitting her up first was his best way to convey that. So Monday, after his late shift, he took a chance and called her as soon as he walked in the door. He was glad he did because he and Bella had now spoken every night for the past week, and made plans to hang out today.

When he first asked her out, she'd actually declined by saying she didn't have a babysitter.

Hoping she wasn't just making excuses, he replied with, "Hey, we can go to the park for all I care. I just want to see you."

He could have just been patient and waited until the following weekend. But he knew waiting that long—a whole other week—to see her again wasn't an option. And that's the story of how he suckered himself into spending his Saturday hanging out at the park.

Belatedly, he realized how awkward he would look hanging out at the park alone while he waited for them. So he called and cashed in on an 'Uncle Edward and Maggie Mae Day' since he owed her a day together anyway. It had been weeks since they hung out, just the two of them, so she literally cheered in the background. Esme was happy as well. Since Maggie's father wasn't involved in her life, there weren't many opportunities for Esme and Carlisle to have time to themselves.

Everything seemed great.

Bella seemed eager to see him.

But now, even after running almost 15 minutes late, and being at the park for another 10 minutes with no sign of her, it seemed as though he had been stood up.

Tired of the swing once Edward refused to push her any higher or let her jump off mid-air, Maggie headed toward the jungle gym. The bench's placement made it near impossible to keep an eye out on her in the exact spot she was in, so he opted to sit on the ground.

"I'll be right here," he called out, pointing to a patch of grass. "And for the love of God, please be careful."

He kept her in his line of sight and waved every time she glanced over to make sure he was watching. However, he frequently made sure to check his phone and tried to hide his frown each time he was met with no missed calls or replying texts.

Some time had passed, and Edward was convinced they weren't coming—he was getting ready to ask Maggie if she wanted to leave and get some ice cream—when a small tuft of curly dark hair set in pigtails dashed across the playground and headed straight for the slide.

"I was convinced you'd have left by now."

Edward looked up then scrambled to his feet to get a better look at Bella without the sun glaring in his face. _Impossible,_ he thought, realizing how she seemed to get prettier every time he saw her.

"I'm sorry we're late. We had a late start, then we were half way here when I realized I left my phone at home and … are you okay?"

He caught himself as he not only stared into her light brown eyes, but also let his gaze travel the length of her body and memorize every curve.

Before it could get too awkward, he pointed to where the two girls were now playing together. "No worries, I had company to keep me busy."

But Bella didn't notice the resemblance between him and the little girl and frowned, looking around in question to see who the little girl was with. A strange feeling gnawed at her stomach. "So ... you've just been sitting here watching her?"

Unaware of the accusing look in her eyes, Edward shrugged. "Yeah. I've learned over the years that if you take your eyes of her for more than one second she manages to get hurt. Every. Single. Time."

Over the years. "Oh." Bella nodded and let out a sigh of relief. This little girl must be Edward's daughter. They did have similar hair color now that she looked closer. But how weird was it that he hadn't previously mentioned he had a kid in one of their phone conversations? It explained why he was at ease with Briella but it still confused her. Before she could say anything about it—confront him as to why he felt the need to leave that out—the next few seconds happened in slow motion.

They watched on in horror as Maggie—who had decided to crawl _over _ the monkey bars—went toppling to the ground. Edward was at her side and scooping her in his arms within seconds. It wasn't high, so he knew she couldn't be _that _hurt, but his heart nearly stopped.

"You're okay," he cooed. "You're fine."

And she was.

More embarrassed than anything, Maggie clung onto Edward and buried her face in his neck as she tried to compose her sniffles.

"Didn't I tell you …" he let out a strained chuckle, and looked to Bella who was now standing next to Briella. "Every. Single. Time. Hi." He greeted the little girl who was looking up at him curiously. She smiled, waving enthusiastically and, like before, Edward wondered if she remembered him or if she was just being friendly. "How 'bout we stay on lower ground." He leaned back to look Maggie in the eyes. "Then we can go get ice cream. But first … meet Miss Bella and Briella."

After introductions were made, Edward and Bella slowly made their way back to the patch of grass he'd been sitting on earlier. Before he could curl himself onto the ground she stopped him.

"Wait!"

"What? What?" He looked down and around.

"Whoever designed this place clearly doesn't have kids." Bella huffed, bending down into her large bag. "If you sit over on the bench you see nothing. And as far as this grass goes, I sat in ants the first time we came here. So now—" She stood up with a wide and triumphant smile on her face, and a new object in hand. "Tada!"

Edward grinned, and pointed to the worn blanket. "I've never thought of doing that."

"Yeah, well…" she shrugged as they sat down and playfully bumped his shoulders with hers. "No offense, but dads prepare a little differently than moms."

Confused, his eyes widened slightly. "Umm, none … taken?"

"Good. So, how old is she?"

"Five." Edward beamed. "Her birthday was three months ago actually."

"Two months before yours."

Since they'd discussed birthdays during one of their many conversations, Bella remembered him saying he just had a birthday a few weeks ago. He'd just turned twenty-seven. She hoped he remembered hers was coming up in a few months. Not because she wanted anything—they'd just met, after all—but because she wanted to be important enough. She wanted to be someone whom he felt worthy of remembering such things about.

"She must have been a great birthday present for you and her mom when she came huh?" The mention of Maggie's mother felt like a punch in the heart for Edward, and Bella noticed the shift in his eyes. "I'm sorry ... I –" _need to get in the habit of remembering not all situations are as relaxed as mine_, she thought but couldn't voice those words out loud.

"No, it's okay." Edward crossed his arms over his chest protectively. He looked over at Maggie and wondered how and why the conversation had turned deep so quickly. "Her ... umm, her mom died a few months after she was born. She was a good birthday present but ..."

A widower? Bella frowned at the thought. "That must have been hard."

Devastating was more like it. "You have no idea."

The tone in his voice—what Bella mistook for reverence of some sort made her heart clench. She was never one to compete, but even if she had been, if Edward was still in love with Maggie's mom she wouldn't stand a chance. She wasn't sure she'd even continue to try.

Was that why he hadn't said anything about her? Somewhat angry again, she accusingly blurted out, "Why didn't you tell me you had a kid? Obviously, it wouldn't have bothered me. Still being in love with her mom, on the other hand, might pose some issues, but –"

"Uh, Bella, I'm pretty sure me being _in love_ with her mom is frowned upon in most situations."

"I don't get it."

"Her mom was my sister." Despite the ache in his chest caused by the loss of his twin sister, there was no way Edward could deny the hilarity of Bella's continued confusion. "Which would make Maggie my niece."

Bella looked relieved, guilty, then grief stricken all in a matter of seconds. "I'm sorry," she'd whispered. "I'm not happy your sister passed. I'm really sorry, actually. Just … I was wondering, you know. How, as a widower, you felt about … stuff. I'm just glad I don't have to worry about that."

"Stuff …" Edward nodded, rubbing his chin to hide his smirk. "I love … stuff."

Bella fidgeted, not sure how to probe without sounding unsympathetic or nosey. "If you don't mind me asking, how did she-umm, what happened?"

"She was in an accident."

It was the first time she heard Edward speak in that tone of voice. It was tight—uncomfortable. It was the type of voice a lesser man would use right before he told you to mind your business. Bella remembered how he told Briella that he got his scars from anaccident, she quickly realized it was the same one. She would ask him more about it later, but for now she moved on.

"So do you have any kids?"

Another dark cloud passed behind Edward's eyes. "No."

That was strange. When they'd spoken on the phone, Bella loved how she could hear the constant smile in his voice-how eager he sounded whenever she called. Now, it was as if she was saying all the wrong things.

She didn't want to upset him or their plans for the day, so she dropped it. But she hoped he knew that if they continued on whatever they were doing, she would ask again. And eventually, she'd want to know why he almost shut down at what she thought was a simple question.

***X*—*X***

"Can I please have the Pauline's and cream?"

At the cashier's confused expression, Edward stepped up to the counter. Ever since she found out what her mother's favorite ice cream used to be, that's all Maggie ever wanted to try. The only problem was she'd take a spoonful or two before deciding she didn't like it. He wasn't up to repeating the cycle today.

"She means pralines and cream. But what she'll actually have is two scoops of vanilla, and rainbow sprinkles."

Maggie pouted but knew better to argue. She was getting ice cream! It didn't matter what kind.

After Bella ordered the same for her and Bree to share, the four of them found a booth in the corner of the little ice cream shop.

"So you're not having any?" Bella sent a playful glare to his healthy smoothie, fidgeting with the hem of her shirt. What Edward didn't know was that one of the reasons they were late was because she was close to having a nuclear meltdown when she couldn't find anything to wear that fit her the way she liked. The last thing she needed to do was eat ice cream at that moment, but she had no willpower with such things.

"I never really liked iced cream. Her mom did, though. That's why it's 'our thing'—coming here."

They both fell into a comfortable silence, and Edward smiled despite himself, remembering her mix up from earlier in the day.

"I need to go to the ladies room," Maggie said, trying to sound dignified and grown up the way Esme would. Edward nodded and stood up at the same time Bella asked Bree if she needed to go potty.

"I can take them both," she offered, but Edward hesitated.

"That's fine. I can take her."

"You can't go into the ladies room." He knew that, of course. Catching on, Bella winced. "And you don't need to take her to the men's room with me right here. It's okay, I don't mind."

Edward did. He minded a lot, actually. But he didn't want to make a big deal about it. Even if he did, though, Maggie was assuming the pee pee dance position. There was no time for that.

Though cautious, he knew he had no choice then to relent and quickly.

The few minutes they were inside the bathroom felt like a lifetime for Edward. When they came out he went straight to Maggie, and asked if everything was okay as he looked her over. Bella would have found the whole thing endearing if she wasn't slightly insulted.

And had it been anyone else, Edward wouldn't have cared but he felt a strange need to explain himself—defend himself.

"I know you'd never hurt her or anything, but …" he shrugged. "You still never know."

"Yeah." Bella nodded, and looked away giving Briella a soft smile. He was right; just like Laurent had said, you never knew. But something in Edward's eyes told her he knew all too well.

* * *

**So ... thoughts?**

**Again, thank you so much for reading.**

**Until Next Time**

**~Lo**


	6. Chapter 6: Bella- Edward

**I just wrote it. Louise, VC- Girl, and Cap made it shine! :-)**

**I can not thank you all enough for all your kind words. And for the pimpage I've seen going on. Big welcome to those who came over from recs from ADF and TLS . All the feels!**

* * *

**No Matter What**

**Chapter Six**

***X*—Bella Swan—*X***

* * *

"That's … he sounds sweet."

Bella knew the words were meant to be conversational, maybe even encouraging, but she heard the doubt in Jessica's voice.

"Why'd you say it like that?"

"It's just …" Jessica's nose crinkled in thought as she tried to choose her words carefully. The last thing she wanted to do was upset or offend her new friend. However, she didn't see a way around it. "He _sounds _nice. The idea of him, at least. But the guy I met was kind of—not a douchebag, but …"

Bella frowned and thought back to a couple weeks before when Edward surprised her with dinner during one of her late shifts at work.

_Douchebag?_

She never thought she would hear someone use his name and that word in the same sentence.

"He was nice to you," Jessica continued. "He was _all about _you, which is great. He just didn't seem to care about anyone else around him. Maybe douche isn't the word. Maybe cold is more like it."

When she'd put it that way, Bella actually understood where Jessica was coming from. In the month since they'd started getting to know each other, Edward had revealed himself to be a pretty reserved guy.

He had the tendency to sit back, stare, and watch people as they passed by. He'd study them, but you could tell he wasn't judging. He seemed polite but didn't go out of his way to smile.

When he spoke to Bella or Briella, he had a soft aura about him. But if it was someone he didn't know, or perhaps didn't like, he kept talk of any kind to a minimum.

Maybe that's it—maybe he just didn't like Jessica.

"Well, anyway, good luck this weekend. I'm sure you'll have a _great _time."

"Yeah." Bella nodded. Her nerves resurfaced. "A great time. Sure."

Due to a random change, Laurent and Bella were scheduled off for the same weekend. When he asked if Bree could spend Saturday with him, she agreed without hesitation. Bella didn't want to give up her whole weekend with Bree—they had already added Laurent getting Bree one weekday as well; but a Saturday night she could do.

And she hoped to spend it with Edward.

Even though they'd talked on the phone endlessly and made outings to the park a frequent occurrence, they had yet to spend a full day or night alone together. Anxiety was starting to get the best of her, and Jessica's comments hadn't helped.

Just minutes before expressing how she felt about Edward not being a social butterfly, Jessica was oh-so-willing to point out that he and Bella might not have much in common. "It seems like all you do is hang out in 'kid friendly' environments," she had said. "What if you don't mesh well outside of that?"

She'd tried to backpedal when she realized how bitchy she sounded, but it still hung in the air and got Bella thinking.

Though it was impossible not to love the way Edward clearly adored her daughter, the thought of getting trapped in a situation where he only hung around because of her kid suddenly scared her, too. It was a selfish way to think, she realized—especially since she'd originally worried how being a single mother would get thrown back in her face when she tried to date—but she couldn't help it.

She remembered a movie she watched once, where a guy only married his girlfriend because he'd grown so attached to her son and didn't want them to move away.

Back then, she'd thought it was so stupid and selfish when the actress broke things off. Here was a decent man willing to love her child, yet all she could think about was that he didn't love her more.

Now, Bella couldn't be sure she wouldn't have done the same thing.

***X*—Edward Masen—*X***

It had been days since Edward saw the girls, so when the doorbell rang he leapt out of his chair, excited. "Good afternoon, ladies," he greeted … Bella. "Oh, hi." His smile was wide, as he craned to look behind her, and asked, "Is the princess hiding?"

That was what she was afraid of and for a fraction of a second, Bella's heart fell. Was Jessica right after all?

"Actually, it's … I'm alone. Is that okay?"

Edward's eyes lifted at her unsure tone. It wasn't one he'd heard from her before. Of course it was okay that she'd chosen to hang out with him alone. Better, in fact. As long as everything was alright. "Is Briella sick?" He wanted to make sure before he expressed how happy he was that it was, in fact, just going to be them. But then again, he admonished himself, if she were sick Bella would have just canceled altogether.

If possible, Bella's heart stammered, and fell even further. "She's fine. With her dad, actually. Um … is that okay? That it's just me? We can still go to the park or whatever, if that's really what you wanted to do." She winced at her offer, and her shoulders slumped. They'd had tense moments but never had to deal with that much awkwardness before. She didn't know how to handle it.

"Bella." Edward grabbed her hand and pulled her to him. "Trust me. I'm more than happy that you're here with me. That it's just us."

"Really?"

He rolled his eyes but said nothing else. Such a silly question. "Come in."

Edward's house was exactly how Bella would describe his personality. There was simplicity to it—black couches, wood furniture, nothing too extreme. But the elaborate and intricate paintings seemed too complex for the dwelling.

Simple yet complicated. Just like him.

"I like your place."

Edward snorted. "I've been told it doesn't mesh well together. Or something."

"I could see that."

"So you said Briella is with her dad?" He ushered them to the couch. "That's good. Does he get to see her often?"

"Not lately," Bella answered quickly. Then her shoulders squared with the need to defend Laurent. "But that's because of his new job. He's a good dad. He tries his hardest and is always there when she needs something."

"Hey." Edward raised both hands. "You don't have to defend her dad to me. Seems like he tries, right? More than I can say for my old man." Bella let out a small snort; an indication that she knew the feeling. Edward quickly picked up on it. "Judging by that little response, I take it that's more than you can say for your dad, too, huh?"

"Oh, well he's a long story. I don't want to bore you."

"You won't. Plus I have all day. If you want to talk, I'm here."

There was a different sense and vibe you got from spending time with someone face to face that you couldn't get over the phone, or with a child acting as a buffer.

As the day progressed into night they both realized spending the day together was exactly what they needed.

Edward got to see Bella in a more relaxed light. She was at ease as she lay back, unworried that Briella was two feet away getting herself into trouble. Edward didn't seem all that much different to her, or at least the differences weren't something she could place. He stayed closer than normal and never shied away from her.

But he was still Edward. Less guarded, more flirty, but still cautious.

When evening came Edward offered to take Bella to dinner, but she declined. She had enjoyed their time together too much and didn't want to disturb their little bubble.

She suggested, instead, that they stay in and cook together. To which Edward, the self-proclaimed homebody, readily agreed.

After they settled into their meal, they fell easily into what should have been difficult conversations regarding their pasts and, in Bella's case, her dad.

"We had a good relationship when I was growing up." She pushed some food around her plate. "It wasn't perfect, but what teenage daughter and father relationship is? Still, it was good up until I started dating Laurent. He was pissed. It obviously got worse when I found out I was pregnant."

Edward knew the feeling. No one liked his ex, either. Especially Rosie, and he'd wished for a second that he'd taken all her advice. Pushing the thoughts away, he wondered why Bella's dad had such a problem. "Why didn't he like him? Did he think he was a bad guy or something?"

"No. More like a black guy."

Edward scowled, and his fork clanked against his plate when he dropped it. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Exactly what it means. As you see, Briella's mixed."

"And? What's that got to do with anything?"

"Exactly." Bella smiled. "She's beautiful. Amazing."

"So wait—you're telling me your dad's racist?" He wasn't sure why it surprised him so much. Racism wasn't something he was blind to. He'd just been lucky to have never heard or seen anyone experience it firsthand. He did have moments where people judged him by his own skin, but not because of the color. Because of the scars on them, and now the ink. He knew it wasn't the same.

"It was shocking." Bella continued, staring off into the distance. "I never expected blind acceptance from my father. I don't expect it from anyone. Briella will have to learn her respect from the world just like everyone else. But I have nightmares she'll be called some the things he said about her ..." she shook her head, taking in a deep breath. "There are just some battles no one should have to face. Not anymore."

Unable to find words of comfort for Bella, Edward stood up, pushed his seat back, and walked to the other side of the table.

"Come here." He pulled her up by her hand. She complied without hesitation, wrapping her arms around his waist, as he folded himself around her. He clung to her desperately, almost unaware of his strength, as he caged her in the tightest hug she'd ever experienced. He didn't want to let her go. He wanted to let her know it would be okay. And he hoped his hug said what he couldn't: whatever their battle, he'd be willing to stand with them.

As she relished the moment of affection, Bella couldn't help but let out a euphoric giggle when she felt the softness of his lips brush against her temple. As kind and loving as he was, Edward wasn't an overly affectionate guy. She loved every moment of it even though she was having a rough time breathing.

"Do you think things might be different now? I mean … since you haven't seen each other in a while?"

"I doubt it." Because it hadn't been all that long. In the way she described things to Edward, she made it seem like she hadn't seen or spoken to her father much since Briella was born. Charlie Swan didn't deserve her protection, but for some reason she didn't want to tell Edward about things that had happened recently. How, even in the face of being homeless, he still wanted nothing to do with his granddaughter. No amount of time would fix those things, no amount of excuses. "What about you and your dad …" she hedged, trying to broach what she'd learned was a sensitive subject for him. "When did you last see him?"

"Rosie's funeral."

That was another sensitive subject. Since she knew with certainty he wouldn't talk about his father, she chose what she thought might be the lesser of the two evils."Do you want to tell me about it? The accident, I mean."

"There's nothing to tell." Edward answered, his voice harsh. Bella didn't even flinch.

"It's not … you don't blame yourself or anything do you? It was an accident and …"

Edward dropped his arm, took a step back and grabbed the dishes from the table. As he walked into the kitchen, Bella followed. "I don't blame myself, no. I know I didn't kill my sister. But … it was my fault. It _is_ my fault."

"Do you want to tell me about it?" Bella repeated, unsure of what else to say. She didn't see a difference between blaming yourself for something and thinking it was your fault.

Torn, Edward regarded Bella with a blank expression. He wanted to open up to her about so many things. But he didn't want to feel judged, pitied. He didn't want to see _that _look on her face. "One day." He nodded, and hoped that was enough for her.

It was.

Bella knew he wasn't shutting her out. He was just asking for some time. For now, she was more than willing to give it to him.

She reached to lace their hands together—her silent gesture to let him know she understood and wasn't going to be pushy. Sighing in relief, Edward refocused the attention on their night together.

"So what did you want to do now? Should we get dessert?" He looked over at the clock, then back at her. He didn't have much in his house in the form of sweets, but it was early enough that they could still go and get something if she wanted. "You're hanging out for a little bit longer, right?"

"Yeah, I was planning on it if that's okay. But can I stay?" Bella had a soft yet hopeful look in her eyes. "Here. Can I stay with you tonight?"

* * *

**So what did you think?**

**I've been pretty good at posting weekly teasers in my FB Group - Fics on the Lolo84 - normally on Wednesdays. So if you want an idea of what might happen before I update next weekend, that'll be the best place to check it out. :-) **

**Meanwhile, I got a REC! **

**** Grind **by JonesnInDaHood **Summary: **Beaches and boardwalks, endless summers and sugar cones. Adulthood crept up on Bella Swan sometime ago. Can a local skater make her feel young again? **

**So now, it's your turn. Lemme know what you guys are reading? : -)**


	7. Chapter 7: Bella Swan

**I write it, Vancouver-Canuck-Girl makes sure I make sense and talks me off the ledge. Then we send it to Capricorn75 to polish, and you guys make it all worth it. :-)**

* * *

**No Matter What**

**Chapter Seven**

***X*—Bella Swan—*X***

* * *

It was clear by the look on Edward's face that he hadn't expected Bella to ask that. So as the air stayed silent around them, she slowly started backing away. It wouldn't lessen the blow of rejection, but all she wanted was to put space between them now.

"Wait …" His hands were at her sides and resting on her hips before she realized he'd taken a step forward.

"It's okay."

"No, listen … I want you to. Just …"

"It'll get in the way of you going to get that dessert?" Bella asked, trying to lighten the mood.

It was the perfect opportunity to make a joke about the varying choices of dessert she could be referring to, but they both let the moment pass.

"Stay," Edward repeated firmer than before. His hands moved to rest low on her back to pull her to him and stop her from moving away again. If it was possible, he knew she'd be able to hear his heartbeat through his chest. He sure could feel it and desperately wished for a way to calm himself down. But his nerves weren't his main priority. Reassuring Bella was. "I want you to stay."

"Okay." She let out a breath and tilted her head back to stare into his eyes. Now that he'd agreed, she felt nervous. The look he was giving her wasn't helping all that much, either.

This wouldn't be the first time they shared a moment like this—a moment where the air crackled around them and she wanted every limb, every bit of their skin, attached together in every way possible. They just hadn't had the opportunity to take it any further than stolen kisses. Now that they did, something heavy hung over her head.

Were things moving too fast?

Was this where he saw things going tonight, or did she bulldoze the idea on him?

"What's wrong?" Edward rubbed his thumb against her cheek.

"I want you to want me," she blurted out, then cringed. If she wasn't thinking about and comparing her and Edward to situations similar to a movie, she was blurting out song lyrics.

"I do." He puckered his lip in silent request.

Bella obliged; she pressed her mouth to his but kept it chaste. As he backed them toward his bedroom, everything about the kiss felt contradictory. Edward lips molded over hers with a familiarity she hadn't expected for someone she'd only kissed a handful of times. Yet, everything else—his body, the way he held her—felt tense, almost rehearsed.

She hoped he was just nervous. That was something they'd both have in common. When they got to his room, Edward slowly peeled his shirt away, sat on the bed, and refused to make eye contact with Bella as her gaze took in the length of his body.

To her, he was more than beautiful. He was scarred to perfection. But he couldn't see the way she was looking at him.

Bella reached her fingers out, intending to trace over his skin—the art, the scars—but when Edward recoiled slightly from her touch, she knew not to take it personally.

She knew what it was like to feel uncomfortable in your skin. To worry about what someone would say when they saw you without the shield of clothing. Everything about him screamed that there were things he was feeling that she'd never be able to relate to. But that was the last thing she wanted to discuss right now.

Bella knew he wouldn't want to discuss them, either. She needed to focus on making right what she could. All her fears and insecurities fell by the wayside. Reassuring Edward was now her main priority.

"I have scars, too." She placed her hand back on his shoulder, curling it slightly to keep him in place. "We all have some in one way or another. Yours are just more visible."

Edward turned his upper half, his eyes searching in silence to see what Bella was referring to. He'd looked at her all night, thoroughly, so he knew she didn't have any scars. And if she did they'd faded. "No you don't."

"I do." She nodded, inching closer to him and lifting up her shirt. "See." She pointed to her stomach, then to her sides. "Here and here. I have them all over."

Edward frowned, his eyes lifting up in confusion. "Those aren't scars. They're umm …" He searched for the correct word. "Stretch marks?"

Bella nodded, again, brushing her lips over his. "They're scars in their own way. And so is this." She grabbed his hand to brush over her faded C-section scar.

He gave her an almost annoyed look. "This doesn't count. Those don't count. They don't make you any less beautiful. If anything—"

"These don't take away from you, either. I don't know why you think that." Edward didn't want to get into it, his eyes said as much. And Bella didn't want to push him for fear he'd finally shut down on her. Trying to hide how dejected she felt, she rolled her shirt back down and leaned back against the headboard. "What are you thinking right now?"

Edward let out a breath. He was thinking of so many things all at once. His mind couldn't settle on just one issue. But the main thing he wanted was to show Bella just how much he wanted her. "You're so beautiful."

"Umm … thank you?" He'd told her this before, and she'd never tire of hearing it, but something about the way he said it…

He gulped. "Let me touch you."

"Oh, Edward." She reached out to him. "Come here. Hold me."

"But I—"

"I just want you to hold me," she repeated, more forcefully than she'd intended. She wanted so much more, but in this moment if she pushed, if she indulged him any further, she'd be no better than whoever caused him to have that doubtful look in his eyes.

When morning came, Bella had a satisfied grin on her face. Falling asleep in Edward's arms was indescribable. She felt content, even _desired_, despite what didn't happen. Now that she thought about it, she was thankful nothing did. When the time was right-when they were more comfortable with themselves and each other, and when Edward didn't doubt how she saw him … then, and only then, would they take that step.

**X—X**

"Who's ready for spaghetti?"

"I am, I am!"

The question was clearly meant for Briella, but Edward was the one who chanted and threw his hands in the air.

Briella giggled. "I love pasgetti, too."

"Not as much as I do," he sang as he shook his head. "I bet I can eat more than you."

Bella listened from the kitchen as she prepared their plates. Obviously Edward could out-eat the two of them combined, but challenging Briella was the best way to get her to clean her plate.

They found this out a couple of weeks ago when they started having dinners together. At first, she'd just wanted to return the favor—make him dinner like he'd done for her the night she stayed at his house. But it quickly evolved into more, and Bella started extending an invitation to him on a regular basis.

She could have attributed it to a desire to spend all her time with him, but that would have only been a partial truth.

His ease with Briella, the way he helped dinner time go smoothly as she transitioned into a phase where she hated everything that wasn't a cookie, had a lot to do with it.

He knew so much about parenting, he was amazing with Bree, and a natural with Maggie. Yet, any talk of kids …

"Need help?"

Bella gasped, and looked up to face Edward. He was staring at her in that smirky way she loved—eyebrows raised, and a teasing grin—but it dropped when he saw her face. "What's wrong?"

"Huh?"

"You seem like … are you okay?"

"Yeah."

Edward didn't believe her, but he chose not to say as much. Clearing his throat, he thumbed over his shoulder to where Briella was sitting; fork at the ready, and an intense look on her face. "You're delaying what's about to be an epic eating contest."

"My apologies." Bella handed him his plate and the smaller one for Briella. "Just make sure it's a slow eating contest, please. I don't want her to choke."

This was easily the fourth or fifth dinner he'd had at their house. So it wasn't the first time he used the contest tactic to get Briella to eat. But it _was _the first time Bella gave him what felt like an order or reprimand.

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm great." She forced a smile, leaning up to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "Let's eat."

Throughout dinner, Bella remained quiet as Edward let Briella out-eat him. He didn't have to do much pretending this time. He could barely get dinner down, wondering what was going on with Bella—if he'd done something to upset her.

'Are you mad at me?' he mouthed, tapping her foot with his under the table.

Bella shook her head, mouthing back a confused, 'Of course not.'

What she hadn't realized was that her body language said the opposite.

"Do you want me to go?" Edward asked, once Bella had finished getting Briella down for the night.

Normally, he would have stayed with no questions asked so this threw her off. "Do you _want _to stay?"

"Only if you want—"

"Edward, stop …" Bella grabbed his hand and brought him over to the couch. "Come here. Talk to me."

It was impossible to miss the pleading tone in her voice. "What do you want me to talk about?"

"Anything, everything … I don't know." She looked down and started playing with his fingers. "I feel like I know so much about you, but the truth is I don't."

"You do." He flipped his wrist over to lace their fingers together.

"No. I know your favorite color is red. I know you'd eat steak and potatoes every day if you could. And I know you listen to just about any kind of music, even though you hate cover bands. But …" she trailed off, sliding her fingers up his forearm and letting them hover above a series of scars that didn't match the rest on his arm. She'd seen them before. Noticed how perfect they were in proportion and placement. They weren't the kind meant to cause permanent damage. But she wanted to know why Edward had put them there.

"That ..." Edward pulled his arm away and pushed his sleeve down. "Was a short lived habit that made me feel better for about two seconds, then made me feel like shit for hours after."

"Do you still—"

"No." He looked over with an anxious smile. "I don't do any of the stupid things I used to."

"I wouldn't call it stupid," Bella whispered, folding her hands in her lap. Now that he'd pulled away from her, this time literally, she didn't know what to do with them.

"Then what would you call it?"

"Without sounding judgmental? I'd called it a cry for help." Edward hummed, and chose neither to agree nor dispute her claim. He'd heard many people theorize why he'd done it—why people hurt themselves; cut—but he didn't need to be shrinked about it. Simply put, like he'd said, it made him feel better at the time. "Am I right?"

"About what?"

"That it was a cry for help."

"I guess."

Defeated, Bella sighed and leaned away from him. She didn't want to push. She just ached to get to know Edward better, to learn things about him on a less superficial level. She wasn't expecting to get his life story in one sitting. However, she couldn't help but feel she deserved to know _something _by now.

"Hey." Edward noticed her disappointment and squeezed her knee. He could tell he had hurt her feelings, which had not been his intention. "That's not what it was—not for me. I didn't do it for attention. No one hardly realized, and like I said it was short lived. I was 15 and I'd just broken up with … my girlfriend. " Edward paused, still unsure how to word that time in his life. "Anyway, for lack of a better word I was lost. I didn't know anything about pot or anything like that, yet. So …" he shrugged.

"Thank you." Bella pulled his arm back to her, pushed his sleeve up, and dropped a soft kiss on his forearm. "Thanks for telling me. I'm not trying to be nosy, it's just that with what I do know about you, I really like you. And … all I can think about is how much more I might like you if you just talked to me." As the words caught up to her, she grimaced. Did she make sense? Was she coming on too strong?

But Edward just smirked at her, as and tension in his shoulders quickly faded away. "So, you like me, huh? I like you, too, and I don't want to ruin that."

"And you think somehow that'll change once you tell me...what? What could you have possibly done that's so bad?"

With her question, Bella tried to remain casual as if there wasn't anything he could say that could change the way she looked at him. But she knew that wasn't true.

Looking over her shoulder, she thought about the little girl who slept in the other room, thinking as a mother and of the things she had been through, the things she could lose. Bella realized, probably for the first time, that there were _a lot _of things Edward could say that would make her walk away and never look back.

"I would never hurt you." Edward reached over to brush his thumb over her cheek. "And I would never hurt your daughter. I've never hurt anyone, not intentionally. Umm … it's more about what I want. What I can do, and what I can give. It's complicated."

Bella snorted. "If that's all you got … take a look at my life. I own complicated." It looked as though Edward wanted to say something else, but Bella continued, "Look, I'm not saying I'll have the best reactions to whatever it is you're afraid to tell me. But, I'll always do my best to understand. No matter what."

"Okay," Edward said, nodding. But what his heart was saying was, 'We'll see.'

* * *

**Thank you for reading! **

**OH, and thank you so much for sharing all your recs with me! :-) I already got sucked into a couple. **

**I'm leaving today for my vacation (hence why I'm even updating this so early lol) but that means there won't be an update next week. Well, at least not next Sunday. **

**I'm sorry if this chap didn't turn into the sexy one some had hoped. But these two aren't ready. *shakes head* Nope. **

******Leave me your thoughts :-) **

**Until Next Time,**

**~Lo**


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